It's Not Fair
by Bertie Bott
Summary: Sarah may have won the battle, but in the end, Jareth won the war...first Laby fic...


Disclaimer: I in no way own any of the recognizable characters, or sayings throughout and for the duration of this tale...no profit is being made and no infringement is intended.  
  
(A/N): My very first Labyrinth fic, so please bear with me. I'll either make it one-shot, or continue depending on reviews, so don't be shy! Oh, and can anyone tell me about some great Labyrinth fics out there (hopefully already completed), I've had a huge hankering for some!!! Thanks, and enjoy!!!  
  
IT'S NOT FAIR ~*~  
  
Sarah Williams was a star, according to the Broadway Revue.  
  
And every actor/actress knew that the Broadway Revue's opinion was the only one that truly mattered.  
  
It was just like Frank said: if she could make it there, she'd make it anywhere, and Sarah Williams had definitely 'made it' in New York's most renowned theatre district.  
  
In her debut performance she had been hailed as, "a radiant scene stealer whose presence alone is enough to cast one into a state of awe."  
  
Very pretty words, in Sarah's opinion.  
  
Later on the press had exclaimed, "Williams performances are flawless making one wonder at her work of magic."  
  
Work of magic, the words stuck out in her mind as she reread them for the umpteenth time.  
  
Starring as the lead role in several plays wasn't the only work she had had with magic, she thought with a tiny, somewhat bitter smile.  
  
But Sarah did not like to relive her past, not when she had the future to worry about.  
  
Flipping through the scrapbook that contained every small bit even pertaining to her theatre career, Sarah sighed softly.  
  
Where had the time gone, she wondered. She was twenty-six, still young and living a life full of praise and luxury.  
  
She had closed a deal only earlier that day amounting to a few hundred thousand dollars in return for her acting skills.  
  
Sarah had it made. She was young, steadily growing richer, and she was famous. Surely her dreams had come true.  
  
Then why do I feel so isolated, she pondered sadly, turning yet another page in the constantly growing scrapbook.  
  
She had friends. She had her family. Sarah was not alone.  
  
But that didn't change the fact that she still felt alone.  
  
It was a hard emotion to interpret. She was often surrounded by scores of people who loved and cared for her and yet she could stand in their midst, feeling a deep yearning for something more. Something she had forfeited a good ten years ago.  
  
But it didn't matter, Sarah told herself. She could live without it.  
  
She *would* live without it...  
  
Without Him.  
  
Slamming the book shut as the unbidden thought crossed her mind, Sarah muffled an inappropriate swear word.  
  
After all of these years, the memory still haunted her.  
  
Quickly, she rose out of the comfortable dining chair and into her sparkling kitchen and then in turn to the wine rack.  
  
Sarah didn't indulge in drinking too often, but she suddenly felt the urge to sip away her sorrows.  
  
Besides, they say a glass of wine a day was supposed to be good for a person.  
  
Well, Sarah thought with a slightly bitter undertone as she lifted the glass with the dark red liquid in it as a mock salute, cheers to them, then.  
  
Taking a liberal swig of the fruity drink, Sarah made her way back to the dining table to retrieve the scrapbook.  
  
She lived alone in a luxury apartment in uptown New York. It was tastefully decorated, not too flashy or too rustic. It was a rather large living space for just one person, and on that particular night Sarah felt overwhelmed by that fact.  
  
She felt so small in such a large space completely devoid of anyone else.  
  
Her moments of past reflection and depression didn't come too often. She was an actress, after all, and she was very skilled at hiding her despair, even from herself.  
  
But that night the air was filled of her past memories, and the whispering tune of a song that had haunted her life and her dreams. She couldn't ignore the soft strains that night, and the more she tried to suppress the melody the louder it seemed to become.  
  
It was a very persistent, stubborn memory she would have given anything to remove.  
  
A memory of adventure, magic, and dancing- and of Him.  
  
God, she could practically catch his scent in the air the memory was still so strong; sweet grass and musk with a tint of something more. Something that was distinctly male with a slight tinge of magic.  
  
That was what her problem was: magic. That was the root of the dilemma, after all.  
  
She had believed in magic once, a long time ago it now seemed, and that belief had nearly cost her life.  
  
It had nearly cost her Toby's life.  
  
At the thought of her bright faced, eleven year old brother, Sarah couldn't help but to smile fondly. She was positive he recalled nothing about that ill-fated night riddled with magic and mystery; he had only been a mere two years old at the time and it seemed quite impossible for such a young mind to retain such memories.  
  
She had fought her way to the castle, beyond the labyrinth, and beyond every obstacle that had stood in her way. She had denied her dreams and her heart and had said those fateful words.  
  
"You have no power over me."  
  
He had no power over her, she thought solemnly, draining the waterglass crystal of its liquid.  
  
Then why did she still think of Him?  
  
No reason, a little voice in the back of her head shrugged off nonchalantly, just reminiscing about the good old days.  
  
They were hardly good days, her more rational, cynical side countered.  
  
Then why do you persist on remembering them so fondly, the smaller voice shot back smugly.  
  
To learn from past mistakes, she assured herself.  
  
So, you think denying Him was a mistake then, you want a second chance at lov-  
  
Do not be absurd, she told herself angrily, slamming the glass down into the sink.  
  
Following the rules of physics, the glass broke and shattered into tinkling, shiny pieces that inevitably brought her mind back to the crystal he had offered her that had held her dreams.  
  
Shattered dreams and a cold, lonely existence, those were her only faithful companions, she thought bitterly, retaking her seat at the large, impersonal dining table without cleaning up the shards.  
  
They'd never abandon her, as much as she wished otherwise, and she could always count on them to haunt her nights when the memories broke through her barrier and seemed too real.  
  
Sorrow, loneliness, and fake smiles were all she was capable of now.  
  
Of course, her life wasn't completely desolate. She had Toby who always brought a breath of fresh air back into her lungs. She had her acting, which she truly did love in spite of the phony entourage that seemed to worship her.  
  
She had everything she had wanted when she was younger; surely, she had achieved all of her wildest dreams.  
  
Except the one.  
  
She had dreamt, many nights in her youth as all girls had, of her Prince Charming. That was all that she was missing, her dashing prince.  
  
And for the life of her, the only man she knew who could fill the role would never have her back...  
  
Not after she had so cruelly threw his affections back at him for the sake of victory.  
  
But, Sarah realized as she blew out her sole companion, the thin white dinner candle, she hadn't won.  
  
Darkness stretched into the room and Sarah just sat there at her long, dining table, accepting and welcoming what she knew to be her punishment.  
  
She had lost the very moment the words had left her mouth because the instant she had whispered them was the exact same second that she had made it so that she'd never truly reach her dreams.  
  
The battle was hers, but in the end, He had won the war.  
  
And she had no doubt in her mind that somewhere in that world of magic and kingdoms he sat on his throne, tall and proud as she conceded defeat, probably smirking smugly at the picture of the pitiful life she had forged for herself.  
  
She won the battle, but he had won the war. Her victory had been the means of her defeat, and she had no doubt that he had planned it to be that way.  
  
An oddly inane, and yet comfortingly familiar thought drifted through her mind as she wallowed in defeat.  
  
It wasn't fair.  
  
But then again, He had never said it would be. 


End file.
